Lyrical Challenge

Song Inspiration: Perfect Places - Lorde

I fall asleep everywhere but my own bed. I doze off on the bus ride to school, in fifth period biology, the passenger seat of my older brother’s Chevy, and, once, inside a shopping cart. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve spoken to my mother in a month. It would take three to account for every time she has looked at me. I don't like to keep track.

Graffiti lines the brick walls on the way to the party. People like to call me dead girl, and that’s true. Even I can agree my blank stare and indifferent attitude looks like I belong in a casket, but not when they think I am. Every night, I live and die.

I live for punk rock music blaring through the speakers until it ricochets off my bones in whoever’s house we’re swaying listlessly in this time. I die for long conversations on geometric angles that I learned in sixth grade but the teacher feels the need to review again. I live for earbuds that have molded themselves into my ears and vintage t-shirts and flower crowns and pretending to be someone I’m not.

I like fast cars and leather jackets. I like ripped jeans and revel in the eye rolls of my principal as she tries to get the dress code changed. I hate the headlines and the weather. I like nodding along to whatever indie playlist somebody plugged in.

I like the highway at five am, quiet, peaceful, all wide lines and clear vision. I like roses and open flames, and I don’t know why. It’s just another graceless night.

Then, they say things like, ”Are you lost enough? Have another drink, get lost in us.” I like saying no to them. I like having a clear head amidst the chaos, the eye of the storm. I like seeing through the colors and heroes for who people really are.

Car music hits my eardrums better, so one day, I think I’ll blow my brains out to it. Turn the music up so loud my cerebellum rattles. Then, I think I’ll die happy. Then, I think I’ll find those perfect places that people at Woodstock and Monterey never found.